


We Beat as One

by boltshok



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Black Shadow likes old wimps, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ratchet is an old wimp, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltshok/pseuds/boltshok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working in a small medical outpost, Ratchet finds love... or rather, it finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first attempts at writing smut... please help me get better! Comment if you have any suggestions :)

Finishing a report, Ratchet sits back at his desk. This cycle had been long and arduous, with several patients from the frontlines being carted into the medical center via ambulances and other emergency rescue alt-modes. These riots were just getting to be too much, with all of the talk of war going around. As the cycle draws to a close, First Aid joins him in his office, sitting quietly across from him. 

"Did that mech finally shut up?" Ratchet asks without looking up. First Aid nods, murmuring, "Yes."

Ratchet nods, and sets his datapad down, finished. Sighing, he reclines in his chair, hooking his hands behind his helm and looking up at the ceiling. Once First Aid realizes Ratchet isn't about to go anywhere, he stands and politely excuses himself. The rest of the medical staff depart and the lights are turned out; Ratchet sighs, optics powering down as he relishes in the quietness. After a few minutes he powers up, tiredly standing and gathering his things, organizing his desk for the next morning. Locking his office, he nods to the oncoming medics just arriving for the graveyard shift. It takes him a few minutes to exit the medibay and walk to his quarters. 

Once inside, he sits down on his solitary sofa, shuttering his optics and taking the moment to relax. Nearly a joor passes before someone knocks on his door.

"What do you want?" Ratchet drones, without opening his eyes.

"It's me," First Aid responds quietly. "May I enter?"

Ratchet opens his eyes and sits up farther. "Yes, of course."

Opening the door, First Aid enters with a couple cubes of mid-grade. His gloves are held between one of the cubes and his hand. 

"Is tonight okay?" he asks, setting the cubes down on the table in front of the sofa. 

"Good as any," Ratchet grunts, picking up one cube and popping the top. 

As he takes a sip, First Aid goes to his knees before Ratchet, teasing one of his hands away carefully. Tenderly, he removes the glove, then reaches up and removes his facemask. Setting it down, he looks eagerly up at Ratchet through his visor. Ratchet smirks down at him, taking another drink. Reaching out again, First Aid takes Ratchet's hand and pulls it in, kissing the fingertips softly. Pausing halfway through the cube, Ratchet's lips part as his breathing hitches. Skin tingly coolly as First Aid tentatively licks his fingers, Ratchet sighs and lies back slightly, legs drifting open as First Aid pulls his fingers into his mouth. Ratchet shudders as First Aid's tongue wraps around his first digit and diligently suckles on them. Between his legs, First Aid's spike pops loose from it's housing, and he pauses to blush deeply and try to shove it back in. 

He is halted by Ratchet with a look, and the older medic pulls him closer, sitting forward on the sofa. First Aid looks up at him with a pleading look as Ratchet drops a hand to his spike, gently tweaking the tip before stroking the shaft. 

"Please," First Aid whispers. 

Ratchet chuckles, starting to pump First Aid's spike. The younger medic whimpers and presses against him, letting go of his hand to clutch onto Ratchet's shoulder. 

"Ah," he whimpers. "Ahh-ahhh!"

Ratchet smiles as First Aid's body tenses and he overloads, transfluid spurting out of his spike and onto Ratchet's hand. First Aid goes limp instantly, nuzzled against Ratchet's shoulder. 

"Alright," Ratchet grouses. "Up, up... get in berth and I'll wash my hands."

First Aid stands eagerly, going into the smaller other room. Peeling his armor off, First Aid leaps into berth, snuggling underneath Ratchet's blanket. Ratchet quietly washes his hands and joins First Aid, leaving his armor on the floor as well. Sliding in beside First Aid, Ratchet snuggles into the other mech's arms. First Aid nuzzles into his helm, falling asleep as Ratchet stills.  
...  
In the night, Ratchet stirs. Heavy footsteps walk down the hall outside his quarters, and he slides out of berth, barely disturbing First Aid. The younger medic curls into the berth, sighing softly. Ratchet gathers his armor, pulling enough armor on to be presentable to the medbay, and goes to the door, opening it. Peeking out, he looks down the hall. A massive mech takes up the whole hall, and as Ratchet steps into the hall, his left foot lands in a pool of energon. 

"Are you bleeding?" 

The mech turns to face him, and within three strides has gone to Ratchet's side, seizing him under the throat with his forearm. 

"Fix my wounds," he growls in Ratchet's ear. Something about that voice sends an arousing tremor through Ratchet's spinal struts, and he shudders and gulps. 

The mech reaches down, ripping Ratchet's armor off, searching underneath for weapons. After thoroughly stripping Ratchet, the bigger mech starts to move towards the medibay, dragging Ratchet along, and once they are inside he looks around nervously. Ratchet glances up at his captor - the mech is massive, with a black body and broad red wings. His optics are scarlet red, and when he notices Ratchet looking up at him they glance down at Ratchet for a moment before scanning the room.

Deciding upon a long hallway, the Decepticon drags Ratchet with him before he opens a door, stepping inside. Throwing Ratchet against the far wall, the mech shuts the door, turning the lock. Flicking the light on, his eyes run over Ratchet's exposed frame before his lip curls in a sneer. 

"Autobot medic," he growls. "Patch my wounds."

"Now, hold on," Ratchet says, putting a hand up as the mech steps closer. "I don't have my gloves, this could hurt me-"

The mech reaches out to him, taking ahold of Ratchet's outstretched hand, clenching it in his own massive one. "I need help," he growls, yanking Ratchet forwards. Ratchet whimpers as his hand is pinched, glaring up at the mech. 

"Who are you?" he growls. "I am no service drone."

The Decepticon pulls him up tightly, growling down into his eyes. "My name is Black Shadow," he murmurs lowly. "Now, serve me."

Ratchet shudders at the sound of his name, eyes closing slowly. Black Shadow was a phase-sixer for the Decepticons, a killer of entire populations. Growling, Black Shadow tosses him towards the berth, pulling a piece of armor off of his shoulder. Thick, well-worked muscle shines with wet energon underneath, from a clear stab wound. A ping to overload rings in Ratchet's mind; he looks up at Black Shadow, then sighs. 

"Well, it's the middle of the night," Ratchet murmurs. "I need to visit the washroom, then sterilize my hands, and then start on your wounds."

"You don't leave this room," Black Shadow growls down at him. "Urinate in the sink."

"That is not sterile," Ratchet growls back at Black Shadow. "No."

"Then wet yourself," Black Shadow snarls, standing forward. "Fix my shoulder, or I'll take your life and find another medic."

Ratchet looks up at him, ignoring another ping in his mind to overload. Defeated, he turns to the sink, washing his hands. "If the wound becomes infected then you have no one to blame but yourself."

Black Shadow remains silent as Ratchet washes, watching as he gathers a few rags, cleanser, and gauze. 

"Please, seat yourself on the berth," Ratchet instructs, nodding to the berth against the wall.

"Why?" Black Shadow asks, wings flaring.

"Sit, please," Ratchet says, exasperated. "It is easier for me to work."

Black Shadow slowly steps forward, sitting on the edge of the berth, wincing as his shoulder jolts. Ratchet steps up, working his way to the berth's edge by pushing between Black Shadow's legs. Black Shadow watches as Ratchet dampens a rag, beginning to clean away the drying, clotting energon. Ratchet looks up, meeting Black Shadow's eyes. They are a strong, deep scarlet, and something primal burns at their back. In his chest, Ratchet's spark flutters, and between Ratchet's legs, his spike stirs as those scarlet eyes burn into his. Eyes flicking down, Black Shadow smirks, watching Ratchet's spike harden.

"Like what you see, Autobot?" he snickers, nudging Ratchet's hips with his knee.

Looking down, Ratchet glares back at him, cheeks coloring lightly. "If you want me to patch you up, I'd suggest you not make fun of me," Ratchet spits, without any fire to his voice.

Black Shadow chuckles, looking away. "Alright, medic."

Ratchet nods slowly, cleaning the wound thoroughly before inspecting it again. "I will stitch it, then wrap and pack the area with gauze."

"Mmm," Black Shadow rumbles, eyes coming back around to study the medic's erection. 

Ratchet's spike is painted a silvery white, with a dark red line on the underside. Reaching down with his free hand, Black Shadow wraps his hand around Ratchet's spike. The medic jerks, looking over at him. He had been preoccupied with Black Shadow's wound, but now he just glares up at the Decepticon. 

"Hands off," he growls, slapping Black Shadow's hand away. "Even if I am undressed, that does not mean you may touch my equipment."

Black Shadow blinks, then lowers his hand, eyes resuming their harder edge. "I see," he grunts.

Ratchet returns to his wound, pulling a needle and surgical line out of a drawer. Threading the needle with sure, sensitive fingers, Ratchet pierces Black Shadow's skin. The phase-sixer sighs, looking away. Ratchet finishes after a few minutes, nodding. "You're done. Leave."

Black Shadow sighs, looking down at him. Standing, he pulls his armor on, and unlocks the door. Ratchet's fading spike hangs at his legs as he steps forward, shutting the light out.

"Get out before I call security," he growls, stalking through the medbay, to the hall to pick up his armor.

Black Shadow steps into the hall, quietly walking down to the exit of the Base. Turning back, he looks at Ratchet, eyes burning scarlet. As if in farewell, Ratchet's spike jumps back up, hard and erect. Faintly chuckling, Black Shadow disappears into the night. Ratchet manages to keep up his facade until Black Shadow has disappeared, then his shoulders slump. Looking down at his eager cable, he tries to touch it like Black Shadow had. Pit, even though that mech was a Decepticon, he was attractive.

Turning sadly, Ratchet walks back to his berthroom. Closing the door softly, he returns to the berth, lying down beside First Aid. Drawing the blanket over himself, he sighs. His erect spike pokes at the blanket, rubbing pleasantly as he shifts around. First Aid wakes as he rolls over again, blue eyes alighting his visor. "Ra... Ratchet?"

Ratchet vents hotly, reaching over and taking First Aid's hand. Bringing it to his spike, he moans softly as the eager little medic begins pumping his spike. Pulling the blanket back, First Aid straddles his hips, working Ratchet's spike with both hands now. Ratchet's eyes flutter shut, and he moans louder.

With a quiet cry, he overloads, transfluid spurting onto his chest, arcing in the air. "Oh... Shadow..."

When his optics finally power up, he looks up at a smug First Aid. "Shadow?" First Aid asks. "Met someone new?"

Ratchet colors. "Oh, shut up," he grumbles. "Hold me."

First Aid smiles gently, sliding down and curling up against Ratchet, drawing the elder medic in. "Alright," he murmurs.

Ratchet pulls the blanket up, and falls into a fitful rest.  
...  
Ratchet wakes to a warm feeling on hips, pooling around him, and he nuzzles into First Aid's side. The younger medic does not wake, but holds Ratchet closer. Ratchet checks his internal chronometer. He has seven joor left... he could sleep longer...

Dropping back to the pillows, he drops off again.  
...  
He wakes to First Aid gently rubbing his shoulder. "C'mon, Ratchet," he murmurs. "You need to get moving, and take a shower... I'll do your joints afterwards."

"A... A shower...?" Ratchet asks, confused. "I am clean-"

As he stirs a little more, the blankets stick to his legs. Confused, he lifts them and finds that during the night he had overloaded, wet energon soiling the blankets and making them stick to his body and to the berth.

"Shh," First Aid murmurs, rubbing his shoulder. "We know it happens. I'll wash these while you shower."

Sighing, Ratchet stands. "Alright," he murmurs. Turning for his private washracks, he turns on the water and stands under the beating spray.  
...  
Sitting in his office later in the day, he thinks back to the previous night. Black Shadow, demanding attention. The weight of that night and the flutter in his spark weighs heavy in his mind. Shivering, Ratchet replays the memory in his mind's eye.

"My name is Black Shadow... now, serve me-"

"Ratchet, incoming war casualties," First Aid says, rapping on his office door. "Up and at 'em."

Grumbling, Ratchet stands and exits his office. The medibay door opens, and the influx of soldiers begins.   
..  
After taking care of all forty-seven injured Autobots, three recovered prisoners, and seven new Decepticon POWs, Ratchet and First Aid sit in the elder medic’s office, taking a breather. 

"So... last night, Shadow?" First Aid asks, taking a sip from an energon cube. Ratchet splutters on his drink.

"Just... a dream," Ratchet murmurs. "A... pleasant dream."

First Aid nods slowly, winking. "Alright."

After they finish their energon cubes, both head back to Ratchet's quarters for some much needed recharge. First Aid had washed the blankets, and the berth is newly made. Snuggling into the blankets, Ratchet settles into First Aid's arms and forces himself asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Ratchet wakes in the middle of the night, hearing heavy pedes walk down the hall past his quarters. Wriggling out of First Aid's arms, he finds his pelvic array and dresses, stepping out into the hall hopefully. In the hall, a midnight guard walks past, dipping his helm as he sees Ratchet. Ratchet nods in return, stepping back inside sadly. He sighs, leaning against the door. 

A ping to overload pops up in his HUD, and he grumbles, turning for the washracks. Stepping inside, he overloads quietly into the waste bowl, listening to the voided energon splashing around against the curved surface. In the hall, more footsteps walk past his quarters.

Shaking the extra droplets off of his spike's head and redressing himself, Ratchet returns to the door, cracking it open and peeking out.

In the hall, a huge presence takes up the whole hall, lumbering past. Ratchet steps into the hall, and the Mecha presence turns - it is Black Shadow, signature scarlet optics sweeping over Ratchet's form. Turning, Black Shadow walks back towards him, looking down at Ratchet.

"I never asked your name," he rumbles, almost apologetically. 

"It's... it's Ratchet," the medic says, composure returning as he stands straighter. "You should know to go away. It was wrong for you to have come last night."

Black Shadow blinks, then steps back. "Yes... yes, it was."

He turns, about to leave, but as he moves to walk Ratchet reaches out, touching his back. Freezing, Black Shadow turns.

"I... I..." Ratchet stammers. "Oh, this is dumb. Frag, just go."

He turns back to his quarters, about to enter before Black Shadow takes ahold of his hand, pulling him back out and pushing him against the wall. Ratchet's spark leaps as he feels the strength in Black Shadow's frame.

"You what?" Black Shadow asks, glaring down at him with intrigue.

"I..." Ratchet's voice grows small. "I liked your touch."

Black Shadow looks him over, then smirks and steps closer. 

"Oh yes?" he asks, hand sliding along Ratchet's pelvic array. 

Almost instantly it drops, Ratchet's spike leaping up erectly. Black Shadow fingers his spike with an almost gentle touch, and Ratchet shudders, gasping. 

"I see," Black Shadow murmurs, tweaking the head of Ratchet's spike. Ratchet reaches out, whimpering and clutching onto Black Shadow's chestplates. 

"Several desire my frame," Black Shadow murmurs in Ratchet's audio, stroking his spike slowly. "This is common... they want my... power..."

His hand pulls away and he steps back. "This is no different," he growls to himself, turning back to the hall.

Helpless, Ratchet watches as Black Shadow starts to leave, before he bounds forward, catching Black Shadow's hand, tugging him around. The larger flier mech turns and looms over the old medic, scarlet eyes afire. 

"I... You could try again," Ratchet offers, stepping back to look up at Black Shadow. "I am... not like others."

Black Shadow growls, then quiets. "I will think about it."

Reaching down, he tugs Ratchet's spike once, almost painfully, before turning to the entrance. He steps out, transforming outside and flying off into the cool night. Ratchet pants weakly, reaching down and touching his spike. Gathering his armor, he walks back into his room, shutting the door and looking across the room, into the next where First Aid sleeps in his berth. They weren't dating, per se... after First Aid's demotion to nurse, after the Autobot sigil incident, the younger medic had reached out to him, more than he had during his internship. Ratchet wasn't ready for a relationship, the old memories burned still too brightly, but he had agreed to be casual, to cuddle and interface but not expect anything more. Such old memories...

Polyhex. Growing up poor. Relying on his best friend to help Ratchet to school and back, to avoid the gangs... he had thought Ironhide would have become something more, but just as they were making a life the war began, and then the street fight... and Ironhide couldn't stand it. He broke it off with Ratchet, left for the Academy, to "hone his abilities"... and never returned. 

"Ratchet?"

The medic stirs as First Aid rises from the berth, walking into the main room, looking for him. First Aid turns once he finds Ratchet, going to his side. Now... had the younger medic always looked into his eyes like that? Held his frame this gracefully?

"Ratchet, you need to come to bed," he murmurs, taking his teacher's hand. "I'll take care of your charge, and then you can sleep. Maybe you should try some blockers, keep your mind at ease."

Ratchet shudders, pressing into First Aid's touch. For the first time in a long time, a single sob escapes him.

"Oh... Ratchet..."

First Aid pulls him in, holding him close. "I'm sorry... for all of it..."

Ratchet hiccups and clutches to him, tears forming in his eyes and spilling over. First Aid guides him to the berth, helping him lie down and get settled amongst the covers. 

"All will turn out... don't worry..."

First Aid wraps his arms around Ratchet, holding him close as Ratchet cries softly. Humming quietly, First Aid tries to put warmth into his EM field as Ratchet falls asleep.  
...  
The next few days pass without consequence. Every night, Ratchet would awaken to ghostly footsteps walking past his quarters, yet every night he was disappointed. No Black Shadow walked the corridor, and seldom there was a guard - the sound was merely in his mind. First Aid was quite supportive, understanding that Ratchet's processor was old and could be failing in some areas. Cycles turned into decacycles, yet still Ratchet clung to Black Shadow's image. 

One night in berth, the younger medic rolls over to face him. Placing a chaste kiss on Ratchet's lips, First Aid looks into Ratchet's eyes. 

"I want you to take me," he murmurs. "I want you to be my first."

Ratchet sighs, looking back at him with trying patience. "Do you not remember our agreement?" he asks. "No relationship, no-"

First Aid kisses him again. "I want you to be the first," he whispers. "I've thought over this for at least six cycles... I've come to my conclusion. I want you to take me."

Ratchet groans inwardly. "First Aid..."

The younger medic reaches down, toying with Ratchet's spike. Within a few rubs and tweaks, it stands erect. 

"I won't force you to," First Aid murmurs. "But I want you."

Ratchet sighs. "Do you really want me as your first?"

First Aid nods, reaching over and lacing one hand with one of Ratchet's. "Yes," he breathes. 

Ratchet looks into his eyes, then sighs, nodding. "Alright," he murmurs. "I... I will..."

First Aid smiles, relieved, as Ratchet sits up, pushing First Aid down as he attempts to follow. He lies over First Aid's frame, kissing him again.

"I will stop whenever you want," Ratchet murmurs, nuzzling First Aid's helm in a rare act of affection. 

First Aid is purely ecstatic, nuzzling back against Ratchet and allowing the older medic to move him around. Ratchet lets his hands wander to First Aid's interface array, gently teasing at his spike. First Aid shudders, mouth parting in a soft gasp. Ratchet's other hand touches First Aid's valve, feeling the soft folds not yet ready.

With a keen moan, First Aid arches his pelvis into Ratchet's hand. "Ratchet," he whimpers. "I've dreamed of this..."

His valve brings forth lubrication, wetting Ratchet's fingers as he rubs gently. Ratchet kisses First Aid's cheek as the young medic moans. Sliding down to look into First Aid's array, Ratchet presses forward. Tenderly, he swipes his tongue through First Aid's valve, and the younger medic shakes with moans. 

Ratchet buries his nose into First Aid's valve, tongue gingerly working into it, calipers squeezing around him. First Aid shudders and moans louder.

"Ratchet," he whispers. 

"I'm here," Ratchet murmurs, stroking First Aid's spike gently. 

"I want you," First Aid breathes. "I want more."

Ratchet moans into First Aid's thigh, feeling his own spike stir and harden. "You will have it," he murmurs. 

Pushing First Aid's legs up, he lets his index finger to slip into the younger medic's valve, up to the first knuckle. First Aid whimpers, calipers clenching down fiercely upon the intrusion. Ratchet pulls his finger back, then reinserts it. First Aid's valve releases a little, and Ratchet's finger slides slowly into his third knuckle. Stroking the inside of the valve, he finds a ceiling sensor and strokes it gently. First Aid whimpers, tensing up.

"Shh..." Ratchet murmurs, leaning in and kissing First Aid. 

Stroking on that sensor makes First Aid relax, and he turns into a puddle beneath Ratchet as the older medic works on him. Finally, Ratchet deems him ready.

Taking his own spike in hand, he guides the head to First Aid's valve. The flared head meets First Aid's valve opening, and Ratchet gently presses in. First Aid cries out, arching as Ratchet finally seats himself, and he curls up around the older medic.

"Ratchet, Ratchet!" he calls, fingers curling into the elder medic's shoulders. "Ohhh..."

Ratchet thrusts shallowly, still working on First Aid's tightness, and wraps one arm around First Aid as the younger medic nears overload. Several minutes of wet-sounding thrusts later, First Aid comes loudly, crying out Ratchet's name to the ceiling as Ratchet grunts, two more thrusts bringing himself to his own climax. First Aid clutches at him, frame going limp as he pants. Ratchet makes to pull free, but First Aid brings him closer again. 

"Not yet," he whimpers, burying himself against Ratchet's chest. "You feel so wonderful."

Ratchet sighs, rubbing his helm softly. Once First Aid relaxes and he is finally permitted to exit, Ratchet is enveloped in First Aid's arms. As he drops into sleep, he thinks, "What have I gotten myself into?"  
...  
When Ratchet wakes, the sheets are soiled with his skipped midnight void. First Aid wordlessly strips the berth as Ratchet steps into the shower to wash the energon off of his frame. They both dress and eat breakfast, then walk down to the medibay to check on their patients and take over for the graveyard shift.  
...  
That night, First Aid takes him again, and they ride out two overloads before First Aid finally allows Ratchet to collapse to the berth, wheezing and exhausted from working and then satisfying his much younger partner.

"First Aid, I can't keep up with you," he breathes, curling up in the blankets. "I'm too old, I was old when I met you... I need a new pump before we could do this with any sort of regularity."

First Aid rolls over to look at him, putting a hand over Ratchet's side. Smiling gently, he brings Ratchet close, nuzzling into his helm. "Okay," he murmurs. "You tell me when you feel like interfacing."

Ratchet sighs, pressing into First Aid's chest as he tiredly falls asleep.  
...  
A few more cycles pass until it is the new moon, and when First Aid and Ratchet retire to quarters the whole world is dark outside, not lit by a moon. Over-fatigued from a lengthy surgery, First Aid collapses into berth, barely putting his arms around Ratchet before he is asleep. Ratchet snuggles up closer to him - his shoulders and chest ache from the same surgery routine. Pressing into First Aid, he drops into sleep.  
...  
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Down the hall, a set of heavy footprints walk past Ratchet's quarters. Even with his extreme fatigue, Ratchet wakes, and pulls away from First Aid to peek into the hall. A hulking mass greets him, right at his doorway. It's Black Shadow.

"You," Ratchet breathes, looking up at him and slowly melting into a little puddle inside. 

Black Shadow studies him closely, before taking Ratchet's arm, tugging him into the hall. With his other hand he shuts the door. Ratchet moves with him, and accidentally stumbles into Black Shadow's chest.

Black Shadow glares down at him, but as he sees Ratchet's genuine fright and anxiety his expression softens. 

"I will not hurt you," he murmurs, gently rubbing Ratchet's arm. "I am merely... interested."  
...  
I am more than merely interested. This mech... ever since he had patched me up in the medivac... ever since he felt my frame and instantly became aroused to it, spark pulsing moments with mine... I knew I must find him again. 

After leaving Delphi I had hardly slept, barely eaten, and only felt alive in battle. But even that reprieve was short lived, and most of my days were spent in misery. Finally, I had gathered enough muster and sparkache and had flown back to the medical center, to where I had dragged myself decacycles earlier. Now, the mech I had lusted, hoped, and dreamed after was standing before me. 

He must become mine.   
...  
Black Shadow reaches for Ratchet's helm, and the medic shutters his eyes as he prepares for pain... only to be surprised as the hand cups his face and pulls him into a strong kiss. 

Black Shadow...? Kissing... him?

Ratchet gasps into the kiss, as the much larger, stronger mech pulls him in, hungry hands dragging Ratchet closer, bringing Ratchet's nude frame up against the contrasting sharp and angled armor which decorated the Decepticon warrior. 

Black Shadow's hand met Ratchet's spike. 

Ratchet moans, spike instantly hardening as he feels the touch of Black Shadow, whom he had desired for so long. The jet's hand slides up the length, tenderly strokes the head, before squeezing back down around the shaft. 

As Ratchet moans and slowly turns to butter in Black Shadow's hand, the mech begins to drop his pelvic array, showing his own spike, massive, painted glossy black with red biolights up the sides. Ratchet looks down at it, and whines softly. 

Black Shadow turns, slowly lowering Ratchet to the floor, spreading his legs with a firm hand. Ratchet looks up at him with surprise before moaning. That same hand which had shoved his legs apart so roughly now cups his valve, palming the exterior folds and stirring forth wetness Ratchet had not experienced before. Black Shadow lies over top of him, leaving his hand to prepare Ratchet's valve as he sensually kisses the medic again. 

"I've dreamt of you," he rasps throatily, tugging on Ratchet's bottom lip, "So often."

Ratchet moans loudly, then gasps and whines as Black Shadow's middle finger sinks into his valve. 

"Ahhh... Black... Black Shadow..." the medic whispers, arms moving to wrap around Black Shadow's neck as the big jet places himself in between Ratchet's thighs, stroking his own cable to the sight of Ratchet's open body. 

Guiding the head of his spike to Ratchet's valve, he thrusts in. 

Rapture explodes into Ratchet's processor as he arches into Black Shadow's touch, crying out. The Decepticon thrusts over and over, gathering Ratchet in to protect his shoulders, his back, any part of him that could bang on the floor. Over and over he shoves his massive girth into Ratchet's valve, the medic crying out his wants the entire time. 

It does not take long for both mechs to reach overload, with Ratchet tipping first and Black Shadow shortly after. Ratchet lies panting on the floor as Black Shadow looks him over, tracing the contours of Ratchet's chest in the darkness. As one last act of romance before he falls into recharge, Ratchet reaches up and pulls Black Shadow into a soft kiss.

"Thank you," he whispers. "For... returning..."

With a soft sigh, he falls asleep, Black Shadow still inside him. 

Unable to think for a moment, Black Shadow is stunned at Ratchet's performance. Ratchet, he... He thanked him? Black Shadow, being thanked for a simple fragging? To be truthful? It was definitely more than just a frag, but he had not expected thanks. Maybe an "I love you" or "I want you" but no. Ratchet gave him just a soft "thank you", and all of the trust he could give to Black Shadow before falling asleep on the floor.

Smiling to himself, Black Shadow disengages from Ratchet, picking up his armor and replacing it. Softly, he picks Ratchet up, quietly opening the door to his quarters and slipping inside. Seeing First Aid on the berth, he halts. Was... Was Ratchet already going with someone else?

At the thought of this, Black Shadow's tanks roil with sickness at the thought of being just some list, and he simply lies Ratchet on the berth before fleeing, shutting the door with finality. He had known better than to take another partner, unskilled at that. They only desired his frame.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for rape in the coming chapter

Ratchet wakes in the morning to frantic pinging in his mind.

"Overload, overload," his processor dictates, his tank overly full from not voiding during the night hours. Before he can process the occurrence, overload trickles out of his spike, growing slowly into a stronger flow which washes his lap and the blankets underneath him. Trying to staunch the waters, Ratchet puts a hand down to squeeze the head of his cable, but it does no good. The release is simply too sweet, too short, and he is left empty, soiled, and so confused from the previous night. 

Black Shadow visited. And fragged him. 

Softly, Ratchet bursts into tears, first from the embarrassment of First Aid waking up to a soiled bed again, then to the loss of Black Shadow to the night. Beside him, First Aid stirs, slowly sitting up.

"Ratch...? Oh, Ratchet, it's alright..."

Gently, the younger medic pulls him down, holding him close. "Shh..."

Ratchet hiccups and presses into First Aid's chest, willing all of his thoughts to go away. 

"It happens, I know it... shh, it doesn't matter... I can wash the sheets, no harm done... Ratchet..."

The old medic slumps into First Aid's arms, helm dropping to his shoulder. 

"The... the berth..."

"Is easily cleaned," First Aid murmurs, rubbing Ratchet's back. "Don't be worried about it... I will do it..."

Hiccupping, Ratchet pulls away and turns for the washroom, wanting to be out of First Aid's sight, caring as it was or not. Shutting the door of the washroom quietly, Ratchet leans against it, lower lip trembling with withheld cries. Covering his face with his hands, he starts to cry. I few drips of fluid plip onto the floor, and he looks down. 

It is milky blue transfluid - Black Shadow's. Seeing this, Ratchet cries harder, sliding down to sit on the floor. 

When he finally emerges after a long, hot shower, he looks for First Aid in their suite. The other medic must be at the medibay already. Sighing, Ratchet pulls on his armor and exits, walking towards the medibay.   
...  
I angrily flew from the medical center, spark blinded by fury and hurt. As I flew, I began to think. I'm going back. I'm going to get revenge.   
...  
By the end of the day, both he and First Aid are exhausted, and drag themselves back to their suite. Opening the door, First Aid steps inside, reaching for the light switch. Jerked inside, he yelps as a hard fist stuns him, then rips out his com link. He drops to the floor. Ratchet, in the hallway, follows him inside - did First Aid fall? As soon as he takes a step inside, the door slams after him, a pair of demonic red eyes burning down at him in the darkness. Fumbling for the light switch, Ratchet turns on the lights and gapes up at Black Shadow. 

"You led me to believe that you cared," Black Shadow snarls, grabbing Ratchet's arms and yanking him forward. 

"I do-"

"Then why do you bed with another?" Black Shadow demands, delivering a swift kick to First Aid, who cries out. 

Ratchet strains towards First Aid, watching as a trickle of energon spreads from some split skin on his side. Black Shadow snarls louder and drags Ratchet away, throwing him to the floor. Reaching up, he rips out the communications array from Ratchet's helm. Kneeling, he chains Ratchet to the berth with a heavy piece of wrought metal, then gags him. Standing up, he casts a dark look down at the medic. 

"I suppose you won't mind if I... took a turn, do you?" Black Shadow snarls, grabbing First Aid by the foot and dragging him in front of Ratchet. 

First Aid squirms weakly, looking up at Black Shadow with fear in his eyes. "Y-You're Black Shadow," he whispers. "The phase sixer."

"The one and only," Black Shadow growls, tearing First Aid's armor from his body, stripping the medic entirely. "And you won't forget."

Black Shadow pulls off his armor that hides his spike, already hard with lust. First Aid's eyes grow, and he struggles to escape Black Shadow's grip. Ratchet yells into the gag, straining for First Aid. The younger medic whimpers, scooting farther away from Black Shadow, only to be pulled back roughly. First Aid clamps his legs shut, whimpering as Black Shadow wedges a hand between them. 

"Scream, medic," Black Shadow snarls. "No one will hear you now."

Grabbing First Aid's hips he shoves the medic's legs apart, tendons shrieking as they are stretched. Looking to Ratchet with savage eyes, Black Shadow sneers down at First Aid and thrusts into his valve. 

First Aid screams, valve split wide open with Black Shadow's girth and length, and he cries as the phase sixer roughly pulls back and slams in again, making sure Ratchet sees the entire torturous event. First Aid sobs and reaches out to Ratchet, eyes running with tears. Pain and fear is written all over his face. 

"Ratchet," he sobs, chest heaving as Black Shadow continues to use him. "Ratchet!"

Ratchet strains toward him, but he is not strong enough to break away. He shouts and yells into the gag, helplessly looking on. 

Black Shadow uses First Aid's valve until he finally overloads, transfluid gushing into First Aid's valve. When Black Shadow yanks himself free, First Aid curls up, crying into his hands. Standing, Black Shadow kicks First Aid in the aft, then picks him up off the floor by his shoulder. Turning, he shoves the stumbling medic into the wall and takes him again, starting up an unrelenting pace. 

Ratchet yells as First Aid whimpers, slumping against the wall as he is pounded into over and over. When Black Shadow overloads a second time, First Aid screams, legs buckling. Cast onto the floor and off of Black Shadow's spike, he curls into a ball, hiding as much as he can from the black and red mech. Now, Black Shadow turns to Ratchet. 

"And you," he spits. "Lover... you only desired my frame. Your pitiful excuse of new beginnings was only a ploy."

Ratchet looks up at him, helm shaking as the phase sixer steps forward, seizing Ratchet's hands and pulling him from the berth. The chains bind only Ratchet's wrists now. Hand going to Ratchet's armor, he is also stripped, frame slowly explored by Black Shadow's wandering hand. First his spike is pulled, then his valve probed sharply. Ratchet only goes limp in Black Shadow's hands, eyes looking sadly up at the rage-filled red ones. 

"I'm gonna frag you into pieces," Black Shadow murmurs, leaning in to growl at Ratchet's ear. 

Trembling, the white and red medic makes the only move he can - he spreads his legs.   
Snarling, Black Shadow throws him to the floor, mounting him without a moment's hesitation. Ratchet cries out only once as he is entered, then he clings to Black Shadow's hand with his own. Incredibly strong muscle coils in Black Shadow's gut, and he pounds Ratchet's valve raw before overloading. Ratchet's spike had stirred during the assault and now throbs, painfully erect, above his hips. 

Taking it in hand, Black Shadow begins to pump slowly, agonizingly, until Ratchet teeters on the edge of overload. Just as the peak reaches him, Black Shadow lets go of his spike, sneering down at the white medic. 

"You don't deserve it," he snarls, reaching into subspace. Pulling out a little device, he takes Ratchet's spike in hand again, carefully, oh so carefully, threading it into Ratchet's spike tip. Ratchet squeaks and clenches up in discomfort, looking up at Black Shadow. 

"You tell anyone," Black Shadow snarls, "anyone at all what had happened, and I'll destroy this entire facility. All life."

Ratchet's eyes widen, and he pulls on his hands, held high above his head. 

"Don't think of removing this little item, either," Black Shadow murmurs, flicking Ratchet's spike tip. "I'll know... and will also destroy the facility."

Ratchet's lower lip trembles, and he shakes in Black Shadow's arms. The black mech stands and drops Ratchet to the floor, stepping over to where First Aid lies curled up. Taking his spike in hand, he begins to void energon onto First Aid's side and helm, the blue fluid crudely splashing his helm. 

Ratchet yelps in protest, crawling over to First Aid, but Black Shadow pushes him back with a foot. Black Shadow finishes after a long moment, shaking the last drops onto First Aid with finality. Looking down at Ratchet, he grins maliciously, pulling Ratchet upright by his wrists, and Black Shadow shoves him down onto First Aid and stands, gathering his own armor and dressing. 

"Good luck," he snarls, turning and exiting the suite. "Sweet dreams..."

Once the door finally shuts, First Aid starts to cry again, and Ratchet clumsily unwraps his hands from the chains, holding the younger medic close. First Aid reaches out and clutches at him, looking up at him through a cracked visor. 

"Ratchet," he whispers. "Ratchet... it hurts..."

Ratchet's lower lip trembles and he cradles First Aid close, a tender hand slipping down to touch his thigh before sliding up to his valve. Gently, Ratchet probes the outer valve mesh, eyes tearing up as he feels fresh energon bleeding onto his hand.

" 'Aid," he whispers, clutching at the younger medic's arms. "Oh, 'Aid..."

First Aid trembles in his touch, tears dripping down his cheeks. With one hand Ratchet reaches into subspace and pulls out a glowing capsule of nanites. Yanking the cap off with his denta, Ratchet places the nozzle at the entrance of First Aid's valve, slowly pushing the nanites in. First Aid cries out and clings to Ratchet's shoulders, crying harder, yet he does not push back. Once Ratchet is finished, he stands shakily, helping First Aid to stand also. The younger medic bends in half, gritting his denta in pain as some nanites dribble out of his valve.

"Lie down on the berth," Ratchet whispers, guiding First Aid carefully to the berth's edge. 

With a whimper he eases down, lying down on the bedspread. Ratchet bites his lip and pulls a rag and a bottle of cleanser out of subspace, dampening the rag and beginning to clean First Aid of fluid. It is an arduous task, but finally the younger medic is clean of voided energon. Pulling another canister of nanites out of subspace, Ratchet gives First Aid a second dose. Before the nanites can dribble out he presses an ultra-soft bandage against the damaged valve lips, strapping it in place gently with sticky bandage tape. Ratchet then carefully welds the split on First Aid's side and looks over the younger medic, meeting his eyes behind the visor. 

"Ratchet," First Aid whispers, looking up at him. 

The older medic frowns and looks him over again. Shakily, First Aid reaches out and takes Ratchet's hand, holding on for dear life. "Please. Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ratchet chokes out, lying down beside him. 

With a sob, First Aid turns over and wraps his arms tightly around Ratchet, clinging to him like a security blanket. Wordlessly, Ratchet draws his blanket around them and presses against First Aid's chest. First Aid cries shamelessly into Ratchet's helm, clutching him close. Ratchet's valve aches, and so does his spike. Glancing down, he observes its' nature - an inhibition device, most likely to withhold overloads. Sighing softly, Ratchet puts an arm over First Aid's side, hand stroking his back.

"It'll be okay," Ratchet whispers. "We will be okay."

Hiccuping, First Aid curls around him, nodding into Ratchet's helm as his own cries quiet. A few minutes later, he whispers, "I'm glad you were my first."

Shuddering, First Aid powers down his optics. "I'd hate him to be mine..."

Without another word, First Aid drops off. Ratchet stares into the younger mech's chest, at war with his love for Black Shadow and his hate for his actions. With a soft sigh, Ratchet too falls asleep.  
...  
In the early morning Ratchet wakes to a pinging in his processor to void energon. He disentangles himself from First Aid, pulling away. Coming to life instantly, First Aid clings to his hand, eyes coming on over-bright as he looks up at Ratchet. Fear-filled eyes blinking, First Aid whimpers softly. 

"First Aid, I must void, now," Ratchet whispers to him. "I'll return soon, but I must go now."

"Ratchet, don't leave me," First Aid whimpers, clinging to his hand more tightly. Ratchet winces as his tank pings his processor louder, void energon forming a bead at the head of his spike. 

"First Aid," Ratchet rasps, tugging on his hand. 

First Aid's eyes widen and he releases Ratchet's hand, watching as the older mech staggers to the washroom, hand clenched around the head of his spike as overload trickles out. Upon reaching the washroom the dam bursts, but Ratchet manages to land most of it in the void bowl. Washing his hands and spike off, Ratchet finds a rag and cleans up the energon on the floor before returning to berth.

"I'm sorry," First Aid whispers, looking away.

"Now-now," Ratchet grouses, easing down beside him, "None of that. It's fine, and I've returned."

First Aid envelops him once again in his arms, cuddling close to the old medic. "Do we still have to go to medibay today?"

"No..." Ratchet sighs. "I'll sign us out for the next few cycles... give the nanites time..."

Hiccuping, First Aid presses into Ratchet's neck and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him. For the second time that night, Ratchet thinks over Black Shadow.  
...  
I have done it. I have gained the revenge I needed against that Autobot medic and his mate. The young one's valve was so tender... stirs my loins to think about it. He was enjoyable, but... Ratchet was not. He gave himself to me, and he begged so sweetly... I feel a slight regret over the force I used on him, and the inhibitor, but it was all worth it. To have such a compatible spark to mine so... deceitful. It makes me sick, but I had to do it. He deceived me, in the worst way...  
...  
Ratchet drags himself to the medibay before his shift, and signs on two junior medics to take over while he and First Aid are 'off sick' for a few cycles. Returning to his quarters, he finds First Aid in the shower. Stripping the berth, Ratchet pulls out some other sheets and slowly makes it up, tucking the corners in neatly. When First Aid emerges, he looks to Ratchet and puts a hand over his interface array in modesty. His visor has been removed.

"Ratchet, I-"

"Shh," Ratchet murmurs. "Come lie down, let me see the nanites' repairs."

First Aid nods wordlessly, crossing the room and lying down on the berth. Ratchet kneels with a groan before him, pulling out a little penlight. Carefully he parts First Aid's valve lips and shines the light in. First Aid's valve is still holed out from Black Shadow's massive spike, and he whimpers softly as Ratchet spreads the entrance.

"I know, I know..." Ratchet whispers. "The walls are still damaged, you need more nanites."

First Aid whines, and his legs relax slowly. "Okay," he murmurs. "Do it."

Ratchet brings out a canister and pulls the cap off, nudging the cannister up into First Aid's valve before injecting the nanites in. First Aid whimpers, legs rising to frame Ratchet between them. As with before, Ratchet bandages his valve. As Ratchet stands, he grimaces as the pain in his own valve reminds him, "I'm here!"

"Ratchet," First Aid whispers. "Let me... let me see you... you didn't give yourself any nanites."

Ratchet sighs, looking down at First Aid.   
" 'Aid..."

"Please," First Aid whispers, sitting up slowly and taking Ratchet's hand. "Let me care for you."

Sighing softly, Ratchet resigns himself and helps First Aid to stand, lying down in his place. He is still dressed from his trip to the medibay, though, and First Aid touches his interface array, asking entrance. With a quiet rumble, Ratchet allows the armor to come away, legs sliding up as First Aid kneels between them. His breath is warm on Ratchet's skin, and the older medic shivers lightly. First Aid takes the penlight still held in Ratchet's hand, and with a moment's hesitation, spreads Ratchet's valve lips apart to peer inside.

"Ratchet... you need nanites..." he whispers, gingerly kissing Ratchet's thigh and looking up at the older medic. 

Allowing his helm to fall to the berth, Ratchet pulls out a cannister and gives it to First Aid. Pulling the cap off, First Aid timidly touches it to Ratchet's valve, looking up for approval. Ratchet reaches down over First Aid's hand, helping him slide the canister in. Retracting his hand, Ratchet moans in discomfort as First Aid squeezes the nanites in, pulling a bandage out before removing the canister. Ratchet shudders as the bandage is pressed to his valve, and he is wrapped up like First Aid. 

"There," First Aid whispers. "I wish we could remove the inhibitor..."

"You heard Black Shadow," Ratchet snips, suddenly sitting up. "We cannot."

First Aid's eyes grow wide, and he looks up at Ratchet, now above him. His eyes fill with tears slowly, and Ratchet's hard gaze softens as he notices them. "Oh First Aid... I won't hurt you..."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ratchet pulls First Aid into his arms. "Shh... I won't hurt you... I apologize for snapping." 

" 'S okay," First Aid hiccups. " 'S okay..."

Crawling up beside Ratchet, First Aid lies down and curls around Ratchet. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Sighing, Ratchet nuzzles into First Aid's chest. "When we wake, we should refuel," he murmurs. 

" 'Kay," First Aid mumbles, already drifting off. Without another word, Ratchet follows him.  
...   
When they wake, they eat as agreed upon, and Ratchet checks his chronometer. "It's eventime, First Aid," he murmurs. "We should continue to sleep, allow self-repair to continue."

First Aid nods, finishing up his last cube. "Okay."

Ratchet and he lie down in berth, First Aid taking Ratchet in his arms. "Goodnight," he whispers, kissing Ratchet's forehead. 

"Yeah," Ratchet mumbles. "Good night..."  
...  
Ratchet wakes in the night when something nudges his hand. Powering on his optics, he looks down at First Aid's spike, half-hard in sleep. Shifting lightly, First Aid moans quietly as it rubs against Ratchet's hand again. 

Ratchet groans to himself, allowing his hand to wrap around First Aid's spike, gently sliding it down the shaft and back up. Hardening in his hand, First Aid's spike beads up with pre-fluid, glowing a soft blue. Slowly pumping the spike again, Ratchet is rewarded with First Aid moaning a little louder in his sleep, spike tensing a moment with a contraction. Starting up a slow rhythm, Ratchet continues to pump First Aid's spike, feeling his own rise at the sight of First Aid's pre-fluid dribbling onto the sheets. Within moments, First Aid tenses and overloads, transfluid spurting out softly onto Ratchet's hand. Afterwards, First Aid relaxes and sighs softly, nuzzling into Ratchet's helm subconsciously. Wiping his hand on the sheets, Ratchet grumbles, looking down at his own eager spike. 

Without hesitation, he wraps his own hand around it, dragging his hand up and down the shaft. Biting his lip to hold back a moan, Ratchet allows his eyes to shut as he reminisces on the pleasure of past overloads. Without his knowledge, First Aid wakes, and his hand meets Ratchet's. 

"Ratchet," he whispers. "Ratchet..."

The older medic's eyes blink open, cheeks blushing deeply as he meets First Aid's gaze.

"You won't overload," First Aid whispers. "You'll get really close and then nothing will happen."

Ratchet's eyes cloud up with tears and he chokes, hand sliding along his spike again. " 'Aid..." he whispers.

"You can't do anything," First Aid rasps. "I'm sorry, Ratchet, I'm sorry..."

Releasing his spike, Ratchet presses against First Aid's chest, starting to cry in earnest, now. Last night washes up onto him in a huge wave and he empties his feelings out against First Aid, who clutches him more tightly than before. Sadly, Ratchet's unattended spike juts against First Aid's belly without a purpose. Ratchet cries himself to sleep.  
...  
I rethink my actions. The rape I would do over again, but Ratchet...

Flying along in the nighttime air, the cold atmosphere washing over my wings changes my mind. Turning back, I press my engines for more power. I must return. To Ratchet. My Ratchet.


	4. Chapter 4

A set of heavy footsteps clump down the hall towards Ratchet's room, and as their gravity sink into the floor, First Aid awakens. Pulling away from Ratchet, he looks up as the door opens, a hulking, dark mass stepping inside and shutting the door. First Aid stands and shouts as he recognizes Black Shadow, stirring Ratchet from his fitful slumber. Within moments, Black Shadow has crossed the room and knocked First Aid out, the young medic falling to the floor beside the berth.

"Ratchet..." Black Shadow rumbles darkly. "I'm here..."

Ratchet looks up, scrambling back in the berth, back sliding up the wall. "Black Shadow... please..."

The big, black mech sinks to his knees at the bottom of the berth, looking up at Ratchet with pleading, red optics. "Ratchet," he murmurs. "I should not have done this... I... came to make right."

Easing his armor off to reveal the muscle beneath, Black Shadow climbs onto the berth, looming over Ratchet. He puts a hand on Ratchet's knee, looking down into the old medic's eyes.

"Only if you don't hurt First Aid again," Ratchet whispers.

"Never," is the last word Black Shadow utters before he kisses Ratchet.

His tongue twines with the medic's, and his hands gently pull Ratchet in, against his own, running-hot frame. 

"Ratchet," he whispers, kisses leaving Ratchet's lips to move down to his throat, licking and sucking hotly on Ratchet's windpiping. Ratchet shudders and moans, optics closing, and his hands land on Black Shadow's shoulders. Black Shadow rumbles softly, engine starting to purr against Ratchet's bare chest.

"Ratchet," Black Shadow rumbles, taking one of Ratchet's hands and teasing the glove off. Wrapping his tongue around Ratchet's first digit, Black Shadow grins as Ratchet cries out, clutching Black Shadow closer. Black Shadow's other hand finds the spike inhibitor, extracting it from Ratchet's spike tip. 

Calling out loudly, Ratchet begins to tremble as Black Shadow sucks in more of his fingers, kissing each of them in turn before suckling lightly.

"Shadow..." Ratchet whines, overload building up strongly, and he ruts against Black Shadow's hips.

Black Shadow's spare hand goes to Ratchet's spike, offering it to thrust into. Ratchet takes advantage of anything he can manage, and eagerly thrusts into Black Shadow's careful hand. Ratchet shouts in pleasure as he overloads, body convulsing as the energy rips through him, spilling transfluid all over Black Shadow's hand and his own belly. Licking Ratchet's hands lightly before pulling back, Black Shadow gathers him in, grinning and peppering Ratchet with kisses.

"Mine," Black Shadow rumbles, stroking Ratchet's hand and spike in tandem, drawing out the aftershocks. 

Ratchet shudders and moans, pressing into Black Shadow's touches. Releasing Ratchet's hand and spike, Black Shadow kisses his way down Ratchet's neck and reverently kisses his chest, before licking the base of his spike. Erection slowly rising again, Ratchet moans and trembles as Black Shadow's blessed mouth sinks over his spike, the entire thing fitting into Black Shadow's mouth. Black Shadow's hands clamp on Ratchet's hips, taking control of the medic's body.

Humming softly, Black Shadow suckles on it, drawing back to lap at the tip before swallowing the spike again. Ratchet cries out, rocking in Black Shadow's firm grip, spike bobbing in and out of the black mech's mouth. On the floor, First Aid awakens, groaning softly as he regains consciousness. Black Shadow is too taken with his current task to notice, though, and Ratchet's moans and squeals are too loud for him to hear First Aid, also. Slowly sitting up, First Aid looks from Ratchet to Black Shadow, eyes widening as he hears the pure pleasure coming from Ratchet's vocaliser. 

Black Shadow moans, his spike hard and dripping pre-fluid, and he allows one hand to detach from Ratchet's hips to stroke his waiting spike. First Aid scrambles away from the black Decepticon, fearfully whipping around the corner to hide against the sofa. 

Ratchet's voice grows in volume as his second overload builds, and his voice breaks into static as his overload breaks across his frame. 

"Shadow,” he rasps, panting hard. "Can't... more..."

Black Shadow looks up at him and smiles, kissing at his hands. "All right, my medic."

Climbing up beside him, he shows Ratchet his proud spike, thick and erect in his hand. One large thumb smears the prefluid around on the head, and Black Shadow moans, curling Ratchet into his other arm. Ratchet's eyes are glued to the massive spike, positively throbbing in Black Shadow's hand.

"Need you," Black Shadow rumbles huskily, eyes going half-lidded as his own overload crawls upon him. "Want you."

Ratchet is trembling beside him, wishing so much that his valve was healed and ready to go. He's probably lubricated right through the bandages, even at this rate.

"Ratchet," Black Shadow rasps, eyes closing as his rippling abs tighten, overload bursting forth. 

Transfluid gushes from his spike, erupting in long, hot streaks of shining fluid to land upon his chest and hand. His chest heaves, cycling systems and fans working overtime to cool his frame. As he pulls his hand away, he offers it to Ratchet, who laps up the milky fluid with passion. Black Shadow smiles, eyes closed happily, and he curls around Ratchet possessively, wings flaring out as he wraps Ratchet in the blanket on the bed. 

In the living room, First Aid has squeezed himself under the sofa, hoping to be out of Black Shadow's reach. On the bed, Black Shadow strokes Ratchet's helm until he is sure the medic is asleep, then he gets up, walking into the living room and looking around. First Aid trembles in terror as the black mech bends and lifts up the end of the sofa in one easy movement.

"Come back to the berth," Black Shadow growls. "I am leaving."

First Aid looks up at him, shaking in fear, and his eyes shut tight as Black Shadow reaches in and picks him up, holding him under one arm. Turning, he sets the sofa down and carries First Aid into the berthroom, laying him carefully down on the berth beside Ratchet. 

"Take care of him," Black Shadow murmurs. "I'll be watching."

First Aid nods weakly, wrapping himself around Ratchet. Black Shadow steps back and looks over the scene, then turns and quietly dresses, then excuses himself to the hall. His footsteps fade away, until they are gone, and First Aid goes limp. Ratchet mumbles softly in his sleep and turns over, snuggling against the younger medic's chest. Kissing the top of Ratchet's helm, First Aid drifts off into a fitful sleep.  
...  
Ratchet does not wake to overload, and the two medics wake to a soiled berth. Ratchet goes to the shower first as First Aid strips the berth. When he returns, First Aid takes his spot in the shower next. When First Aid comes out Ratchet is there to meet him, and takes the still dripping mech in his arms, embracing him. For a moment First Aid does not move in shock, but then instinctively wraps his arms around Ratchet. 

"You are safe here," Ratchet murmurs. "Don't ever think not."

"B-But... Black Shadow, he... he came in..."

"Out of passion, First Aid," Ratchet murmurs, rubbing First Aid's back. "Shh..."

First Aid slumps into him, pressing into Ratchet's neck and breathing in. When he finally pulls away, he kisses Ratchet's lips tenderly, as if asking to be let in. Ratchet moans softly, and First Aid presses timidly forward, kissing him again and again. Suddenly, Ratchet puts his hands up against First Aid's chest. 

"Stop," he gasps, looking away and down. "First Aid... we can't."

First Aid pauses, lips parted, and he looks down at Ratchet, putting a hand out to take Ratchet's. "What is it?" he asks softly.

"I... I can't do this," Ratchet whispers. "With you. All of these... things. I'm physically in love with Black Shadow. My spark beats with his."

First Aid's mouth opens a little wider, tears filling his eyes. "Ratchet," he whispers. "I..."

"We agreed to no relationship," Ratchet rasps, pump beating faster. "Just the occasional frag. That's all this was-"

First Aid jerks away, eyes flashing. "That's all this was?" he demands, "That's all this WAS?"

"First Aid!" Ratchet snaps, looking up at the younger medic. "I told you when we began rooming. 'No relationship'. I wasn't looking for that."

"But now you're in love," First Aid growls.

"Love found me!" Ratchet shouts, pushing First Aid back. "I never asked for this! He just came, and I felt him, and we beat as one."

Ratchet looks up at First Aid, feeling a pain bloom in his chest. "First... First Aid..."

Taking a weak step forward, Ratchet crumples, eyes going dark. 

"...Ratchet?" First Aid whispers, looking down at him before the medic in him kicks in. 

Dropping to the floor, he puts his helm to Ratchet's chest. No pump beat, he must be going into circulatory failure. Scrap! He doesn't have any equipment, this is offshift... putting an arm under Ratchet's knees and another behind his back, First Aid strains, slowly lifting the older medic of the floor. Now he just has to get to the medibay...

Stumbling out of the washroom, First Aid drags himself to the door, kicking it open as he bumbles into the hall. Ratchet weighed a ton, for being so old. Staggering down the hall, First Aid manages to make it into medbay and to a berth before slumping in exhaustion. The graveyard staff stare open-mouthed at First Aid, watching the nurse stand to his full height. 

"I need help!" he calls. "Head medic Ratchet is going into pump failure."

In a blur of movement the other medics swarm to the berth, pushing it in and down the hall to the OR. First Aid follows wordlessly, stepping inside just as the sterilizing spray comes down on the operating team.

"Personal nurse First Aid," the chief surgeon barks. "Exit the room. We will take it from here."

As the spray shuts off, white cleaning fluid streaming down First Aid's face, he nods slowly, lower lip trembling as he steps outside once more. After the door shuts, he puts his hands to his face and starts to cry, slumping down the wall to sit on the floor. Quietly, a technician walks down to him and crouches next to him. 

"First Aid," he murmurs. "Please come with me... I'll help you back to your quarters."

Peeking up at the mech, First Aid allows himself to be helped up and led down the hall. The mech wordlessly leaves him inside Ratchet's quarters before returning to the medibay. First Aid, once inside, starts bawling, and crawls into berth under Ratchet's blanket. Ratchet... it was his fault Ratchet's pump went out. They were arguing... over something that shouldn't have been argued over in the first place. First Aid remembers to agreeing, 'no relationship', but he just didn't want to believe it.

Sobbing into his pillow, he breathes into Ratchet's blanket, into the familiar scent of the old medic. As his tears quiet, First Aid curls up for a restless, worrisome cycle.  
...  
Nearing the end of the cycle, a messenger comes to the room. "First Aid?" the voice asks from the other side of the door. "Ratchet's out of surgery... he's asking for you."

First Aid's helm jerks up, and he flies off the bed, scooping up armor and throwing it on as he races to the door and opens it. "Take me. Now."

The messenger blinks up at him with wide eyes before turning, leading First Aid back to the medibay. When they make it to Ratchet's room, he opens the door for First Aid to enter. Stepping in, First Aid almost breaks down into tears again.

Ratchet lies in white bedding, hooked to a spark monitor, a pump monitor, and a bag of energon. A pad of bandages covers Ratchet's left shoulder.

"Oh, Ratchet..." First Aid whispers, kneeling beside the berth. "I am so sorry..."

"None of that," Ratchet grouses softly, placing a hand on First Aid's helm. "I am alive..."

First Aid hiccups and presses into the touch, shoulders dropping. "I thought... you... you..."

"Hush," Ratchet murmurs, more gently. "I am safe."

Looking up at him, First Aid then crawls in beside him, wrapping an arm over Ratchet's midsection. "I won't argue with you about... that... ever again," First Aid whispers. "I'll be here... for whatever you may need me for."

"That's my First Aid..." Ratchet murmurs, kissing the medic's helm. "I'm really tired..."

"I'll sleep with you," First Aid murmurs. "I won't leave."

"All right..." Ratchet agrees, dropping off. "We'll talk... later."

First Aid smiles and snuggles against Ratchet's side, closing his eyes and listening to Ratchet's calming pumpbeat.  
...  
Ratchet spends the next few cycles in the medibay, then is released to his quarters. First Aid is with him constantly, making sure the old medic receives the care he needs. About six nights after the incident, Black Shadow shows up again.

Opening the door to Ratchet's quarters, Black Shadow peeks inside. First Aid is just emerging from the washroom, where Ratchet quietly dabs on the incision made in his left shoulder. The young medic halts, mouth going dry as he sees the massive black mech in the living room. "Black Shadow," he whispers. "He... He's in the washroom. Something's happened-"

"I know," Black Shadow growls, stalking forwards. "I came last nightcycle as well. Neither of you were here."

Opening the door to the washroom, Black Shadow stares down at Ratchet sitting on the bathroom counter. Ratchet dabs on the incision with a cleanser-doused rag, and he looks up as Black Shadow enters. 

"Black Shadow," he whispers, hand with the rag dropping from his shoulder. First nestled innocently in his lap, his spike rises to attention.

"You are pleased to see me," Black Shadow rumbles. "I have come, Ratchet... why do you bear a wound?"

Crossing the small space he wraps his arms around Ratchet, pulling the old medic in. "I was very concerned," he murmurs. "You were not here."

"My pump gave out," Ratchet whispers. "It was replaced. I was just released to quarters."

"Oh... my lover..." Black Shadow rasps huskily, kissing Ratchet's lips tenderly. "This was my doing?"

"...partially, yes," Ratchet mumbles. "I'm sorry-"

"Shh..." Black Shadow rumbles. "You are not at fault."

Ratchet trembles as one of Black Shadow's large hands curls around his spike, pumping it slowly.

"You are more firm," Black Shadow growls huskily. "A new pump does you well."

Ratchet blushes, looking down at Black Shadow's hand. "I am sorry," he murmurs. "We should talk, learn of each other... not just mindlessly frag-"

Black Shadow leans forward, cupping Ratchet's chin in his hand as he leans in and deeply kisses Ratchet, releasing his chin as the old medic leans up into the kiss. Now with a free hand, Black Shadow reaches down and cups Ratchet's valve, the heat of his hand making Ratchet gasp.

"Where ya grow up?" Black Shadow asks huskily. 

"Polyhex," Ratchet moans into the kiss. "Slums."

"Mmm... outer Vos. Brought into the Guard young."

Ratchet moans louder as Black Shadow's thumb rubs lightly on his forenode.

"Ratchet, I'm going to the medibay," First Aid calls from the other side of the door. "Com if you need me."

"All right," Ratchet manages before his mouth is claimed again. 

Black Shadow pauses to listen as First Aid exits, then he carefully picks Ratchet up, exiting the washroom and crossing over to the berth. Laying Ratchet out, he kneels at the end of the berth, pulling Ratchet closer to his face. Ratchet trembles as Black Shadow lowers his helm, licking at Ratchet's forenode.

The medic moans as Black Shadow begins his feast, licking and suckling at that node until moans are the only sounds Ratchet can make, hands finding Black Shadow's helm and holding so he won't pull away. 

With a soft cry Ratchet overloads, clutching tightly to Black Shadow's helm. The black mech's wings rise up as he feels the release of energy, and he softly pulls away as the contractions of Ratchet's valve slow up. Ratchet pants softly, lying back on the bed as Black Shadow stands, looking down at him. One of his hands now pumps his own cable slowly. Those big wings look so enticing...

"Lay down," Ratchet grunts, slowly sitting up. Black Shadow cocks an eyebrow and eases down onto the bed, leaning onto one elbow as he continues to stroke his spike.

"On your front," Ratchet instructs, standing now.

Looking back at him with a mischievous smile, Black Shadow turns over, widening his legs to reveal his own dripping valve. "Gonna clean me out too?" he asks, reaching back to spread his valve's lips at Ratchet, strings of lubricant coating his fingers.

"Perhaps later," Ratchet murmurs, staring appreciatively at Black Shadow's valve display. "I had something more... intimate in mind." 

Black Shadow looks up at him with questions in his eyes, but he does not protest as Ratchet climbs back onto the berth, sitting on Black Shadow's back. Looking up at the broad wings laid before him, Ratchet tugs off his gloves and lets his hands slide down the broad surfaces. Beneath him, Black Shadow shudders and pulls a pillow in, putting one ear to it so he can peek up at Ratchet.

Ratchet's hands slide lower, to the junction where the wings meet Black Shadow's body. "I am a medic," Ratchet murmurs. "And I know all the places that will turn. You. On." 

Leaning down, he licks softly at the union of wing and skin, and Black Shadow moans deeply, loudly, the vibrations of his voice shaking his back. "Ratchet," he gasps, eyes closing in bliss as Ratchet slowly unfastens the armor that protects the union of his wings. "Sweet Primus..."

Ratchet eats heartily, nibbling and suckling and every now and then rubbing at Black Shadow's wings. 

"I love you," Black Shadow moans pulling his knees up so his spike isn't shoved against his belly. Ratchet does not cease until Black Shadow is crying out, hands grasping at the blankets. In one fell swoop Black Shadow overloads, bellowing as his spike spills hot transfluid all over the blankets, back arching and wings flaring. Ratchet grins as he watches the power in Black Shadow's body, and he clings on for dear life as the big jet convulses in the throes of overload.

When Black Shadow calms, he turns and scoops Ratchet up, curling him in.

"My medic..." Black Shadow rumbles, lovingly nuzzling Ratchet's helm. "Mmm..."


	5. Chapter 5

Approximately one vorn later...  
...  
"Goodnight, Ratchet..." First Aid yawns, leaning against his berthroom doorway. 

Ratchet smiles, looking up at Black Shadow. Recently, he had been staying more, off and on again, and the quarters had been expanded into the next set to accommodate Ratchet and Black Shadow's coupling, as well as First Aid. 

"It will be a good night," Black Shadow rumbles, taking Ratchet's hand and pulling him back into their room. "Come, Ratchet..."  
...  
Black Shadow looks up from Ratchet's valve, lubricant dripping from his chin, and he watches Ratchet pant and catch his breath, grinning wickedly down at him.

"I have something to ask you about," Black Shadow rumbles lowly, rising from his kneeling position to lie down beside Ratchet.

"Anything," Ratchet breathes, curling into Black Shadow's chest.

"Well, you must look at me," Black Shadow rumbles.

Ratchet moans and scoots away, slowly sitting up. "...yes...?"

Black Shadow sits as well, putting a hand out to Ratchet. Ratchet takes it, holding it in both of his.

“I have been thinking about you,” Black Shadow admits. “And the future...”

Ratchet’s spark skips a beat as he stops cycling air, holding still as he listens to what he anticipates to be a breakup in their relationship.

“...and I want to ask you a very important question.”

“Anything,” Ratchet repeats, mouth going dry.

“Would you consider... becoming my bondmate, and my Conjunx Endura?”

The room falls silent as Ratchet faints, falling back onto the berth. Black Shadow looks down at him and sighs softly, biting his lower lip as he considers just what struck Ratchet so strongly about his proposition.  
...  
When Ratchet stirs, Black Shadow helps him sit up. “Ratchet, are you okay?” he grunts, holding the medic close. 

“I... I’m okay...” Ratchet murmurs. “I... yes. Yes.”

He looks up at Black Shadow, a big grin slowly spreading across his face. Black Shadow chuckles, leaning down to kiss Ratchet passionately. “I am so happy.”

He lies down with Ratchet on the berth, cuddling the medic close to his bare chest. Ratchet nuzzles his helm into Black Shadow’s chest, listening to his spark pulse softly in his chamber. Ratchet yawns softly, beginning to drift into sleep as Black Shadow massages his back softly. 

“Love you,” Ratchet mumbles, and Black Shadow smiles.

“I love you too...”  
...  
They had a private bonding ceremony, and together they managed to pool enough Shanix and credits together to send First Aid to a little hot oils bathhouse a day’s flight away from the medical base, effectively clearing out their shared quarters. Ratchet could not be happier, with all of his time available to spend on Black Shadow. 

As Ratchet enters, he looks up at Black Shadow, blushing. “You know what we have to do now.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Black Shadow murmurs, stroking Ratchet’s helm gently. “Go get ready... you’ve told me enough of your Polyhexian bonding cultures to know you have duties to perform.”

Ratchet smiles up at him and pulls away, excusing himself to enter First Aid’s separate berthroom. The younger medic had given Ratchet permission to use it when he learned of the upcoming bonding. Closing the door softly, Ratchet looks at the supplies spread out on the bed.

A small pot of body paint, a Book of Primus, and stick incense with a holder is all neatly spread out before him. First Aid did a good job of assembling all of it... Ratchet thinks back fondly on the young medic’s affections as he gathers up the incense and holder, creating a small altar on the floor. Reaching into subspace, he pulls out a spark-striker and lights the incense carefully. Picking the Book of Primus up reverently, he thumbs through the silvery pages before finding the prayer of bonding. Laying the book out in front of the incense, he kneels on the floor, grunting softly as his knees protest, and he begins to pray.

His prayer lasts a breem at least before he pinches out the dim flames and closes the Book of Primus. He leaves them right where they are and stands, reaching for the clasps of his breastplate with shaking hands. Upon removing it, he lays it down on the berth, taking the paint pot in one hand. Dipping his fingers in, he slowly draws a line down his chest, mapping out where his spark chamber’s seams are under his skin. With each stroke of his fingers, the lines become bolder, more blocky, and he shapes them as he would Polyhexian glyphs - firm and defined. He examines the lines in First Aid’s small mirror, before looking at himself with wide eyes.

“I am going to be bonded,” he whispers, and his eyes subtly glow brighter. “I am going to be... bonded.”

Stepping away from the mirror, he slowly pulls off the rest of his armor, reaching into subspace and pulling out a soft, gossamer-like robe. His carrier gave it to him, for his first bonding...

Slipping it over his shoulders, Ratchet smiles at the soft touch of the fabric, spark fluttering in his chamber. He turns for the door and opens it silently.  
...  
In their berthroom, Black Shadow dims the lighting, looking over the berth. The sheets and blankets are neatly tucked in, smooth and orderly. Nodding to himself, Black Shadow lies down. He had already undressed, and as he hears Ratchet pad quietly up to the door, his spark skips a beat.

Ratchet opens the door, suddenly shy. He steps in, drawing the sheer gossamer robe around his frame. Black Shadow’s optics dance over Ratchet, studying the older mech's outlined spark chamber seams. Ratchet stands before the berth, pausing as Black Shadow scoots forward, sitting on the edge of the berth as he slides his hands down Ratchet’s sides under the robe. Black Shadow presses forward, drawing Ratchet down onto the berth.

“I love you,” Black Shadow rumbles huskily, kissing Ratchet’s forehead. “Ready?”

Ratchet nods shakily, and quakes as Black Shadow begins to knead his spark chamber’s seams. Softly, he moans as Black Shadow’s fingers work their way between his sparkseams. His chamber slides open, bathing Black Shadow in swirling blue light.

Gasping, Ratchet gazes up at Black Shadow, searching his eyes for approval. Black Shadow, however, is taken in by the sight before him.

“Ratchet,” he whispers, mouth running dry as the glittering of Ratchet's spark pulls him in. “You are beautiful.”

Ratchet blushes deeply, frame relaxing as he hears the compliment. “Thank you,” he whispers, trembles starting up as Black Shadow’s fingers slip into the spark chamber. 

“You next,” Ratchet whispers, reaching up with shaking, ungloved hands. Black Shadow smiles to himself, touching his own chest and mapping out his spark chamber seams with a few slow strokes of his hand.

Ratchet follows these strokes, fingers light and tender. Black Shadow’s eyes close, internal warnings of compromised spark chamber integrity popping up in his HUD. Steeling the flutters in his energon tanks, Black Shadow allows his spark chamber to slide open, a scarlet-tinged blue spark shining down at Ratchet. 

“Shadow... Black Shadow... perfect.”

Ratchet takes Black Shadow's hands in his own. “Bond with me,” he whispers. “I want to feel you next to me.”

Black Shadow smiles, bending to kiss Ratchet softly. Lowering his chest to brush Ratchet's, Black Shadow allows their chambers to meet.

Colors explode across Ratchet's vision as his optics white out in sensory overstimulation. A passionate, burning touch brushes his spark - Black Shadow. The big flier is not doing any better; a shaking, whimpering mess, he clutches at Ratchet's shoulders and hands, pressing his helm into the crook of Ratchet's neck. 

Black Shadow breath rushes out in one go as Ratchet tentatively pulses across their new bond to him. :Black Shadow?:

:I... I'm here: Black Shadow whispers. :Oh, Ratchet... I love you:

Ratchet smiles, pressing up into Black Shadow's chamber. Their sparks beat in tandem, emotions pulsing across the bond without any resistance.

:I love you too, Black Shadow:


	6. Nighttime Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the war, Black Shadow visited Ratchet off and on. The medic bore three sons, and during the war they were killed. This takes place after the war's end, in a small medical facility. Black Shadow finds Ratchet in bed and they make the most of it...

“First Aid, I’m retiring to my quarters,” Ratchet says, standing up from his desk. “I want no disturbances.”

“None of us will bother you,” First Aid murmurs. “Sleep well.”

“Hope I will...” Ratchet grumbles.

Grabbing his cane, Ratchet limps down the hall. Crossing into his dark quarters, he shuts the door roughly, tossing his cane onto the desk on the side of the room. Easing down onto the berth, he sighs, rolling over and drawing his blanket up. Curling into the berth, he falls into a fitful sleep.  
…  
Ratchet wakes in the night when his door slams shut again. He rolls over stiffly, pushing himself up a little before he is pushed back down, a dark figure coming over him.

“It’s me,” the mech breathes, bright flashing red eyes looking over Ratchet’s hurt and beaten frame. “It’s me, my love.”

Ratchet looks up at the mech with bleary, sleepy eyes, and a relaxing smile spreads across his face.

“You’re here… oh, how I’ve missed you-”

“Shh,” the mech says, placing a hand across Ratchet’s mouth. “They may hear."

Nodding a little, Ratchet’s eyes widen as he remembers. Pulling his hand away, the mech raps on Ratchet’s thick armored breastplate. "Off," he instructs. "I don't want to wait."

Ratchet nods quickly, swallowing, before his shaking hands search out the clasps of his breastplate. One clasp comes loose, but his nervous trembling makes the second harder to undo.

"Oh dear," the mech murmurs, reaching down and gently taking Ratchet's hand in his own. "I know I have been gone a long time."

He undoes the second clasp and pulls the armor free.

"My sweet medic..." the mech murmurs, spreading his hands out over Ratchet's chest. He reaches for more pieces of armor, swaths of skin revealed with each part's removal. Finally, Ratchet lies underneath him, completely uncovered, open to him.

"Gonna make me wait any longer?" he asks, hands pressing into Ratchet's spark chamber seams.

Ratchet gasps loudly, arching into the mech's touch, as he rubs and teases the chamber to open. With a click, his chamber opens, a blue glow highlighting the mech's face.

"So beautiful..." he murmurs.

"What... what about yo-"

"Hush," the mech growls, hand clamping over Ratchet's mouth again.

The mech's eyes return to Ratchet's spark chamber. "So beautiful... am I allowed in?"

Ratchet nods underneath his hand.

"Oh good..."

The mech's other hand slides over Ratchet's chest, fingers dipping lightly into the spark chamber laid before him. Ratchet arches, sucking in a breath as he feels the touch. "Mmm..."

Pulling his other hand away, the mech takes Ratchet's hand, gently pinching part of the glove on the end of his index finger. "This too?"

Ratchet nods, eyes wide. With a tender touch, the glove is removed, and the mech brings Ratchet's hand up to kiss. Kissing the back of his hand, he turns it over to kiss the palm of Ratchet's hand, then he licks it. Moaning shakily under him, Ratchet goes limp.

"Sensors still get you goin'," his lover purrs, suckling lightly on the tips of Ratchet's fingers. "I've missed you..."

"Where did you go?" Ratchet rasps.

The mech halts, pulling Ratchet's hand from his mouth.

"I went to many places," the mech says simply. Ratchet swallows, and nods a little.

"I'm here, now," the mech says, licking Ratchet's hand again, making the medic shudder and moan. "Stop worrying, and stop talking."

After making sure the hand in his mouth is well tended, the mech pulls back, then bends to Ratchet's spark chamber, pressing in and licking along one of the walls. Ratchet cries out, arching up into the touch, and his helm falls back onto the berth, eyes fluttering shut.

The mech smiles, feeling Ratchet underneath him, and he continues with more licking, and light nibbles. After a few minutes of this continuous stimulation, Ratchet starts to tremble, his remaining gloved hand going to his lover's helm, not allowing him to pull away as the charge builds. Working harder, faster, the mech feels Ratchet quiver under him, until everything tightens... and Ratchet's charge spins away into overload, the electricity dancing across his frame as he cries out loudly, back arching.

Spark energy flares out to touch his lover's face, and Ratchet moans breathily, hand relaxing, turning into a caress more than a grip.

"And how long has it been since you've done that...?" breathes his partner.

"Forever..." Ratchet rasps.

"Then let's do it again..."

Hands delving into Ratchet's chamber, the mech takes Ratchet's ungloved hand in his mouth, allowing the medic to put his fingers where he wants to. Groaning under his breath, Ratchet pushes his fingers further into the wet mouth at his disposal, rewarded with light suckling. Hands sliding deeper into the spark chamber underneath him, the mech moans softly, feeling Ratchet's arousal through his spark's touch.

"I want you," Ratchet whispers. "Please... please... bond with me..."

"Okay," his bonded moans. "I will... I will..."

Ratchet reaches up, brushing his hand across the strong black chest above him. Shivering, the mech starts to shed armor, pushing the pieces off onto the floor. Ratchet's eyes dance over his bare frame, twisted with lines of thick muscle and hardened scars.

"You are as handsome as the day we met," Ratchet breathes.

The mech blushes softly, and smiles as Ratchet's hand kneads into his spark chamber's seams. "Mmm..."

His chamber cracks open, bathing the medic beneath him in blue light. "Oh yes..." Ratchet whispers, looking up into the familiar blue aura. "I've missed you... so much..."

Pulling Ratchet's hand away, the mech scoots up so their chests are even. "Ready?" he asks, and Ratchet nods quickly.

He leans down into Ratchet's chest, their chambers meeting. Both cry out as their sparks touch, Ratchet clutching at his lover's arms.

:Ahh! Black Shadow... I've missed you, I've missed you!:

:I'm here, my love... I'm here...:

The black mech nuzzles into Ratchet's helm gently, then places a kiss upon his lips.

:This reminds me of the night you gave me our first son: Ratchet whispers. :You came like a thief in the night... and gave me a sweet sliver of your spark:

:I watched you carry that babe to term: Black Shadow murmurs. :I didn't visit you very many times during then, but you were beautiful... you glowed with hidden life:

Ratchet blushes deeply. :I thank you: he whispers, looking away.

:Hey there, brighteyes: Black Shadow says softly, tipping Ratchet's chin up to look into his eyes. :I gave you him... then our second son, then the third:

:And the war claimed them all: Ratchet whispers, eyes closing.

Sighing softly, Black Shadow lies down further, nuzzling into Ratchet's neck. :Sweetspark... I could give you another son, if you desired:

Ratchet's shoulders shake, and he hiccups once. :Let the young have the babes: he whispers. :The old does not deserve them, nor can we keep up:

Black Shadow sighs and smiles wistfully, grinding harder into Ratchet's chamber. Ratchet moans, pushing up into the touches. Bit by bit, Black Shadow picks up the pace, and he pulls one of Ratchet's hands into his mouth, suckling fiercely on his fingers.

Crying out with each suckle, with each grind of Black Shadow's chamber, Ratchet turns into a mewling puddle beneath him, struggling to cycle a complete breath of air. Black Shadow's breath whistles as he continues to grind, until they are both on the teetering edge of a powerful, sparking, overload.

The last gasping suckle on Ratchet's fingers does the trick, and both mechs spiral into overload.

"RATCHET!"


End file.
